I am now back in chilly wet London from chilly wet Morocco.
No, that is a bit of an exaggeration. It was only Fez that was chilly and wet,
never higher than 12 or 13 degrees Celsius and mostly cold wind and rain--and
feeling a great deal colder because the hotels, restaurants and sights are not
heated. Marrakech was sunny and around 18 or 19 most of the time. For some reason I had fallen into the trap of
thinking that it would still be nice weather in Morocco at this time of year since
it is so much further south than the UK and I had taken more summery things
than I needed. Fortunately I had enough “layers” and a waterproof jacket and
wool hat and gloves so I survived fine.
I spent four nights
in Marrakech, four in Fez, with a day excursion to the High Atlas Mountains
from Marrakech and a day excursion from Fez to the Roman ruins at Volubilis and
the royal city of Meknes.
I marvel at how close Morocco is—just over 3 hours
flight from London and no time zone change---and yet so exotic. Marrakech is easily reached for a long
weekend but you step off the plane into an Arab/African world with very little
to remind you that you are so close to Europe.
Morocco retains warm ties with France from the 20th century
French “Protectorate”, which seems to have been a successful colonial
experience for Morocco. Educated people
speak French which is taught at school from the second or third grade, you do
see some baguettes for sale, and the “Villes Nouvelles” built by the French
outside the medina (traditional walled old city) of each major city have wide boulevards
reminiscent of Baron Haussmann’s 19th century civic planning for
French cities.
But there the European influences seem to stop, at least in
Marrakech and Fez . There are no glass and concrete or high-rise office
buildings (although I expect there are in the capital, Rabat, which I did not
visit). The highest landmark building in Marrakech, for example, is the 12th
century Koutoubia mosque! Apartment buildings seem to be maximum 8 stories high
and designed and built in sympathy with the existing buildings and in Marrakech
mostly in shades of pale rose pink and beige stucco, very much in keeping with
the red soil of the countryside. The infrastructure outside the old medina
neighbourhoods is reasonably good—there are good intercity trains and the main roads are
well maintained and not overcrowded --which is just as well since I don't think Morocco has any rules of road.
But within the labyrinth of alleys in the medina, it is
chaos. The motor scooter is king in Marrakech. The tiny zig-zagging alleys of
the medina host a life-threatening display of daredevil bike skills. The larger
streets (which only means that two vehicles can pass if they are very careful)
are choked with large tourist people carriers, coaches, range rovers, cars and
taxis of all shapes and sizes and ages, and even the odd double decker bus! And there are no parking rules so the sides
of the alleys are clogged with signage, parked cars, motorcycles, hand-carts,
bicycles, food stalls, street vendors’ stalls, café chairs, children playing
games.
Fez medina is a little less
lethal since the alleys are too steep and narrow (only 50cm wide some of them)
for any motorised traffic, but here the heavily laden mules take over. So if
you are not run over by a motor scooter in Marrakech you will be knocked to the
ground by the panniers of a mule in Fez.
I was intrigued that the medinas of both cities (and of Meknes
which I also visited) remain fully encircled by walls. These walls are not like
the stretches of ruined European city walls made of grey chiselled stone and
which you can walk on top of. They are high (about 10 metres) but relatively
thin (maximum one or one and half metres), and made of adobe or sandstone---no
match for a determined assault. The walls are punctuated by
watch towers and pierced by key-hole shaped archways with gates, some only
suitable for pedestrians and others wide enough for cars. The walls are very
long---in Meknes the walls of the royal city extend for 40 km!
The maze of alleys (which I suspect were deliberately
complex to deter intruders) in fact do form some sort of plan since the medina
is divided into neighbourhoods, with each neighbourhood having a mosque, a Koranic school, a public bake oven
(these are fascinating dark cavernous places, with slightly sunken floors and
round brick baking ovens---not a scrap of stainless steel in sight, no doubt a
health and safety inspector’s worst nightmare), a fountain, a hammam (steam
bath) and a market or at least a general
grocery shop. Workshops are normally tiny spaces big enough for the craftsman,
his tools and goods and maybe one customer. They open onto the street and with
sometimes living quarters above, glass shop windows are a great rarity. The
alleys are relatively clean --note that word “relatively”---I’ve seen worse in
other countries I’ve been to, but it is not a place for the fastidious. A whiff
of bad drains hangs about.
Ah but all is not chaos in the medina. Behind the blank
adobe walls that line the alleys, with no windows, and broken only by large heavy
wooden doors, is a different world. A
true Tardis. You go through one of the large plain heavy wooden doors sometimes studded with brass nails, and you enter a
courtyard open to the sky and tiled in the Morrocan version of mosaic (called
zelliq) with fruit trees, fountains, birds singing. Opening onto this courtyard
will be rooms with walls decorated with ornate plaster,painted with elaborate calligraphy
and zelliq tiles, and ceilings of carved and painted cedar, and key-hole shaped
arches. The rooms seem to be quite shallow and do not seem to interconnect and
so you access each one separately from the courtyard, or on the second or third floor from a gallery running around the perimeter of the courtyard, accessed by narrow stairs
in the corners of the courtyard. facing the street there are usually no windows except perhaps wooden- screened windows high up ( to
“protect” the harem ladies while they peered curiously onto the streets they could never visit).
These are “riads”, havens of peace and beauty away from the
madness of the medina alleys. Of course
not every family lived in such luxury but there are plenty of them and a number
of them have been converted over the last 20 years into luxury boutique hotels
and guest houses with restaurants swimming pools, spas and impeccable service.
I stayed in two of these in the medina of Marrakech (Les Jardins de la Medina and
La Maison Arabe, both highly recommended). In Fez, which is less highly
developed for tourists than Marrakech, I stayed in La Maison Bleu which was
beautiful and traditional with good food, but so cold, and an open courtyard is no pleasure in the rain…..
Of course I visited the historic sites in Marrakech
(intricate plaster work, “keyhole” arches and , beautiful zelliq mosaics and
elegant calligraphy to decorate the walls, doors of painted wood, ceilings of carved cedar wood,
Carara marble pillars and floors) but since we “infidels”, being non-Moslems, cannot enter
mosques in Morocco you are a bit limited in the amount you can see. (Interesting
piece of useless information, maybe not true—apparently Morocco used to provide
all of Italy’s sugar and it was a regarded as a precious commodity so you could
get a pound of Carara marble in exchange for a pound of sugar!)
However the streets provide more than enough sights and
sounds to keep anyone busy. And there are the souks. These are the working
parts of the medina---one of the rules was that there should be a separation
between work and home and so the workshops are gathered together in one part of
the medina, and each trade tends to be clustered in its own separate section of
the souk . The souks are, of course,
fascinating to stroll through and the craftsmen are interesting to watch --if
you can deafen yourself to the entreaties to “enter, have a look, drink tea,
good prices” although to be honest I didn’t see anything that I wanted to bring
home (but that is probably because I am past the acquisition phase of my life
and into the downsizing phase) . You quickly notice that the better craftsmen
just tend to get on with their work and don’t bother to hassle you as you
pass.
As for quality, there are huge
amounts of tat in the souks of Marrakech. It is after all primarily a trading
city. Fez however is another story. There you see wonderful craftsmen and
beautiful products, with all natural dyes and traditional handmade workmanship—embroidery,
wood carving, brass, leather, shoes, basketwork. The traditional crafts of Fez
are protected and encouraged by UNESCO and it certainly shows. If I was going
to buy something I would head straight for Fez.
Those of you who have been to Marrakech will wonder why I
have not yet mentioned the Jemaa el-Fna. This is the huge (and I mean huge) open square in the Marrakech
medina which is the focal point of entertainment and social life for Marrakech,
and is recognised by UNESCO for the role it fulfils. Architecturally it has absolutely no
attractive buildings nor are there any views or green spaces or historical sites to see. It is
simply and purely a landmark place of human gathering for entertainment and
social life. For centuries up to the 19th
century this entertainment was executions (up to 45 a day) and all the
attendant bustle, excitement and social camaraderie that public execution days
used to involve.
Now the entertainment is more tame---snake charmers,
performing Barbary apes, magicians, story tellers, musicians, itinerant players,
and mountebanks of all sorts. But it still draws in the crowds. And the
tourists are a small minority; most of the crowd are locals. This really is the
focal point of the city’s life. At night the food stalls are set up and you can
have kebabs, fish, salads, meats, sweet pastries and dried and fresh fruits of all kinds
prepared for you to consume under bright bare lightbulbs at oilcloth covered
trestle tables . There is much importuning for your business by the stall
holders and you need to retain your grip and your sense of humour to navigate
between the stalls. However they do look clean and the stalls are all numbered
so I guess there must be a good licencing and inspection system. Certainly I
suffered no ill effects from eating there.
I went by train between Marrakech and Fez which is a long
and circuitous (but relatively comfortable in First Class! ) 7 hour trip but
does give you a chance to see some of the rest of the country: the shepherds with their
sheep and goats, the local markets and bazaars, the roadside cafes ( few tables
and chairs where the local men sip their mint tea under a tarpaulin and wait for a charcoal
grill to cook the meat and vegetables on
display) , the long stretches of barren ground, scrub trees and then suddenly
the irrigated areas overflowing with lush green, fruit and olive trees, vegetables and wheat. The Atlas and Rif Mountains provide a backdrop to
the south and east and occasionally there is a glimpse of the Mediterranean to the north, and
then the urban sprawl of Casablanca and Rabat that the train skirts.
Roses! How beautiful the Moroccan roses are! In fact the
lush vegetation of Morocco was another surprise to me. From the air your first
impression is of a barren land of red plains and barren mountains but as you
get closer you see that the dessert blooms. The soil must be extraordinarily
fertile because all it needs is a touch of water and the land turns into a
breadbasket of wheat, fruit trees, bamboo, vegetables, olive groves. The
Moroccans must be excellent farmers since their fields are immaculately well
cared for and their fruit and olive trees in perfect regimentary rows. Fortunately the skills of irrigation and building aqueducts came early to
Morocco (with the Romans if not before) and the Atlas Mountains provide a
plentiful source of snow to feed the rivers.
Speaking of the Atlas Mountains, they very fine and well
worth the trip to see them even if you do not intend to cross or climb them. On
a clear day you can see them from Marrakech as a white frill on the horizon. You
drive only 60 km south from Marrakech and you are in the foothills. They are
mostly bare sandstone but with areas of trees---cedar, pine, juniper, scrub
oak, olive in the gullies which crease the slopes and where tiny villages cling
to the rock, almost invisible because built of adobe made from clay, straw and
mud gleaned from the mountains themselves.
The higher slopes are already snow
dusted in November and will be covered heavily in a month or so (we even passed a ski
slope!) My guide and I walked for about an hour and a half up and down the
slopes between the villages, passing by taciturn villagers with their mules,
sheep and goats on the narrow tracks which thread up and down the slopes and in
and out of the gullies. I had a lovely lunch on the roof of a Kasbah (fortified house) with a
clear view up Jbel Toubkal , at 4,167 meters (13,676 ft) the highest in North
Africa.
Morocco is –and it seems has been so since the 8th
century times—an Islamic monarchy (current King Mohammed VI—of the Alaouite
dynasty which has ruled Morocco since the 17th century) which seems
to be stable. I certainly saw no signs of protests or unrest or unhappiness or
suppression, but being a short term tourist I suppose I wouldn’t even if it
were there. Apparently Morocco has
always been relatively cosmopolitan, welcoming Jews periodically expelled from
Christian Europe, Spanish Muslims expelled from Spain when it was retaken by
the Christian monarchs after 700 years under Arab rule, Africans moving north
across the Atlas as the Sahara heated and dried up.
The population to look at
shows the physical traits of the African, Berber and Arab people, but I did not
detect any overt discrimination amongst people of different “looks”, although
there probably is a social and ethnic pecking order or they wouldn’t be human,
would they?
There seems to be very little safety net and there were
plenty of old and disabled beggars and some pretty ragged children, but no
outright starvation or malnutrition. There are also plenty of swaggering young
men clearly on the lookout for the main chance and lots of women in hijab and burkhas
of varying levels of coverage. On the
other hand there were plenty of women and young girls from all levels of
society with no head covering and they did not seem to be being ostracised at
all.
The favourite form of street dress for men and women seems to be the
jellaba, a floor length long sleeved outer garment which covers all and has a
pointed hood. (When they are worn with the hood up they look like costumes from
a film of a Tolkien or Harry Potter novel.) These are made of materials ranging
from fine wool to cotton to synthetic to bathrobe-fleece, some plain some
highly decorated with braid, some woven in stripes. This seems to serve the
function of keeping their regular clothes (plenty of jeans peeping out
underneath) clean in the dusty streets and also acts as coat.
English (or a few words thereof) is spoken as the lingua
franca by most in the tourist industry, so with a little French, an English
speaker should have no problems in the cities. The countryside is of course a
different matter. Arabic is the official language but apparently 80% of the
population speak one or more of the many Berber languages and dialects as their
daily tongue—although I admit that I wouldn’t know whether they were speaking
Arabic or Berber! Interestingly Berber seems to be almost exclusively a spoken
language; the writing is a form of hieroglyphics.
A few words about Volubilis. Morocco has been on the traders’
routes since the time of the Phoenicians so it is no wonder that the Romans
established cities and towns there. And Volubilis is a very fine one. It is
nowhere near the sea but is situated in a large, open, very fertile valley and
it seems to have served a function as trading city and breadbasket for the rest
of the Roman empire. It was established on an earlier Berber royal site around 45
AD and faded away after the fall of the Roman empire, about the fourth century
AD. Although already a ruin it was
stripped of most of its unbroken columns and best stones in the 17th
century by the first of the Alaouite kings who used them to decorate his enormous
new royal city at Meknes.
It remains however an atmospheric and impressive
ruined city, of which only about one third has so far been excavated. There are
some fine mosaics (uncovered and open to the weather but still in fine
condition) and interesting domestic
architecture (vomitorium, baths,toilets underground drainage, aqueduct) as well
as a fine triumphal arch , and capitol.
Most interesting to me though was the huge
(Christian) basilica next to the (pagan) temples to Jupiter, Juno and Minerva.
This shows that for a period of time after Christianity became the official
religion of the Roman emperors, the worship of the pagan gods in their temples
continued side by side with the worship of the Christian god in the newly-built
basilica
And I must say a final word of congratulations to the
Marrakech Airport Authority (or whatever it may be called). The airport is
modern and clean but you are not treated like cattle as in most airports these
days. Before you go through security there is a large hall which has been
decked out like a souk with craftsmen making shoes and pots and little shops
displaying goods around the side. Traditional musicians and dancers perform. In
the middle are comfortable sofas and tables and chairs (not moulded plastic)
where you are served a glass of mint tea if you want it. And all of this is
free and no pressure to buy anything. I don’t know whose idea it is or whether
it is permanent or just a temporary display but it sure was a nice idea and
brings home even more forcefully how unnecessary it is for air travel to be so
unremittingly awful as it is today.
Some photos below.
What’s next?
In early January I fly to Australia where I will do a driving tour
of Tasmania before embarking the ship for my three week trip to Antarctica. I
land back in Invercargill in New Zealand in mid-February and hope to rent a
campervan and tour New Zealand. Plans, however, beyond the Antarctic trip are
not firm yet. Tune in again.
 |
| The lush fields of Morocco as seen from the air. This is only where there is irrigation. Elsewhere is barren pink , but a touch of water brings it all to life. |
 |
| A quiet moment in the Marrakech's Rue de la Kasbah |
 |
| same street--an evening scene |
 |
| The city wall in Marrakech with some of the burgeoning population of motorbikes and scooters. |
 |
| A more treaditional mode of transport |
 |
| Me at the Koutoubia Mosque, 12th century---the mosque that is, not me |
 |
| Morocco's storks will nest on any high point in the city or the countryside. |
 |
| My sun deck at Les Jardins de la Medina Riad in Marrakech |
 |
| My room at the Riad La Maison Arabe, Marrakech |
 |
| My private courtyard at La Maison Arabe |
 |
| Breakfast buffet by the pool, La Maison Arabe, Marrakech |
 |
| The pool at the Riad Les Jardins de La Medina, Marrakech |
 |
| The crowds on their way to the Jemaa el Fna in Marrakech for an evening's entertainment |
 |
| The vast Jemaa el Fna, center of social life in Marrakech medina |
 |
| One of the many food stalls in the Jemaa el Fna |
 |
| A display of dried fruits at a stall in the Jemaa el Fna |
 |
| Food stall in the Jemaa el Fna |
 |
| An ancient caravanserai, now used by merchants in the Marrakech souk to store their goods |
 |
| Marrakech souk |
 |
| Moroccans have a very sweet tooth |
 |
| A street in the old Mellah, Jewish quarter. Not the external windows and balconies, unlike the traditional Arab and Berber architecture which has no windows or balconies to the street |
 |
| Old and new---satellite dishes atop buildings in the medina with the 12th century mosque behind |
 |
| Me at the Majorelle Gardens, with its stunning blue villa. Owned by Yves Saint Laurent until his death a few years ago |
 |
| The entrance to the Saadian tombs, the Saadian dynasty's mausoleum for its rulers. This entrance was blocked up from the 18th century and so the tombs lay undisturbed until they were rediscovered in 1917 when the French resident-general flew over in a biplane and saw them. |
 |
| The ornately decorated interior of one of the Saadian tombs |
 |
| Saadian tombs.Note the elaborate plaster work on the arch and above |
 |
| Palace Bahia, 19th century palace of the vizier. Note the painted ceiling with floral motifs, rather than caligraphy and geometrical designs |
 |
| Painted cedarwood doors in the 19th century Palace Bahia |
 |
| Me in one of the courtyards of the Palace Bahia |
 |
| The High Atlas mountains as seen across the fruit orchards |
 |
| Horses in one of the river beds which lead down to the plains from the High Atlas |
 |
| Me in the foothills of the High Atlas near Imlil |
 |
| The barren hills of the foothills with scrub forests in the valleys |
 |
| Foothills of the High Atlas |
 |
| Terraces for growing olive and fruit trees in one of the villages clinging to the sides of the mountains |
 |
| A mountain village in the High Atlas |
 |
| Lunch on the roof of the Kasbah de Toubkal |
 |
| The luncheon view from the rooftop of the Kasbah Toubkal |
 |
| KFC--discreet but there it is at the Marrakech railway station |
 |
| view from the train---the old and new forms of transport |
 |
| The courtyard of the Riad la Maison Bleue in Fez |
 |
| My sitting room in La Maison Bleue |
 |
| Dining room in the Riad La Maison Bleue |
 |
| one of the narrow alleys of Fez |
 |
| And another one receding into the distance |
 |
| Early morning in the Fez souks |
 |
| Note the harem window high up on the wall. This "protected" the women of the harem from view but allowed them to see have a glimpse of the outside world |
 |
| One of the many fine doors of Fez |
 |
| a pretty square in the middle of the Fez souks |
 |
| an alley in the Fez medina |
 |
| Me in one of the few historic buildings open to non-Moslems --this is a medersa (Koranic school) |
 |
| Fine painted stucco archway into a mosque or medersa (off limits to me) |
 |
| View up to the ruins of the 16th century Merinid tombs, Fez |
 |
| Since the alleys of Fez are too steep and narrow for the wretched motorscooters, transport in the medina is by mule with panniers. The panniers can pack a powerful wallop if you don't get out of the way. |
 |
| View down into the tanners and dyers pits---truly a scene from the Middle Ages |
 |
| a closer look |
 |
| Hides stretched to dry |
 |
| Another fine gateway, barred to infidels like me |
 |
| A fine 19th century home of a wealthy Fez family,now a carpet emporium. |
 |
| Inside the 14th century El Attarine Medersa |
 |
| The 14th century El Attarine Medersa |
 |
| inside the 14th century El Attarine Medersa |
 |
| One of hundreds of little neighbourhood cafes in the alleys of Fez |
 |
| A workshop where bobbins of thread for embroidery are sold. All natural dyes. In the early morning you see the craftsmen out in the narrow alleyways stretching the thread and winding it on the bobbins by hand |
 |
| The beautifully restored Fondouk (inn) el-Nejjarine |
 |
| You see these signs frequently in the medinas |
 |
| sacks of olives waiting to be washed, salted, crushed and pressed for oil |
 |
| A village olive oil press |
 |
| One of the enormous granaries in the royal city in Meknes. Moulay Ismail, the king, had a fear of being beseiged and so built these huge granaries to store grain to feed the city if it were beseiged |
 |
| part of the ruined stables of Moulay Ismail. It is said that he stabled his 10,000 horses here |
 |
| Bab Mansour gate---note the Corinthian marble columns at each side, pillaged from Volubilis |
 |
| The tomb of Moulay Ismail |
 |
| Some of the columns of the Capitol at the Roman city of Volubilis. See the stork's nest on the middle column |
 |
| One of the many fine mosaics at Volubilis. Most of them in remarkable condition despite being exposed to the elements for 1600 years |
 |
| The weather was filthy the day I was at Volubilis but it does add to the atmosphere |
 |
| The Capitol centre left and the basilica centre right. Christianity and the traditional Roman temples co-existed apparently peacefully at Volubilis. |
 |
| The public toilets |
 |
| The basilica at Volubilis |
 |
| another mosaic and a threatening sky over the ruins |
 |
| A wet tourist. |
